What You Need
by Secretly Batman
Summary: Sequel to "Home". Joey/Chandler slash, some established relationship. One-shot, Chandler's POV. Chandler contemplates his and Joey's relationship. Rated only for slash, nothing explicit. Review, please! DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, unfortunately.


It's funny, Chandler thinks, how sometimes you don't even notice someone's there. How it'll sometimes take a miracle—_or rather, six beers and some drunken recklessness_, he thinks wryly_—_for it to finally get through your head: that you need this person, and they need you.

A line from an old Rolling Stones song suddenly flits across his mind:

_You can't always what you want, _

_But if you try sometimes,_

_Well, you just might find, _

_You get what you need._

Chandler contemplates this, smiling slightly at Joey, passed out on the couch next to him. Joey's head is resting on Chandler's left shoulder, and his fingers are sleepily curled around the other man's. Both of them are tired and unfocused, and although he's the still awake, Chandler feels a yawn escape his lips.

It's almost funny how it took five or six years for the thought to even occur to him: that every girlfriend he had ever had had come and gone, but Joey was the only constant in his life. And Joey had never been able to hold down more than a one-night stand, but no matter what, he could count on Chandler to be back at their apartment at three in the morning with a beer and some sympathy.

He remembers their first kiss incredibly vividly, although the rest of that night passed by in a drunken haze. Chandler is slightly startled when he realizes that it was only two weeks ago; it seems like years. He closes his eyes, remembering.

---

_"Goodbye, you fruit-drying psychopath." Chandler slammed the door behind Eddie, turning to face Joey, who was grinning broadly. Chandler hesitated, searching for the right words. _I missed you, Joe. _He wished he could say it out loud. Instead, he cleared his throat._

_"So, you want me to help you unpack your stuff?"_

_Joey blinked, as if he was just noticing Chandler. "What? I—nah, I'm okay. Oh, and . . ." Joey scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "Uh, just so you know—I'm not moving back in just because I have to. I—I mean, I do have to, but . . . it's just that . . . that place—wasn't—" He struggled on the words, but Chandler understood the feeling, and smiled at him._

_"I know, man—"_

_"It just wasn't really—I mean, this is . . ." Joey broke off, looking at his feet._

_Impulsively, Chandler pulled him into a hug. "Welcome home, man," He said softly. Joey hugged him back, and Chandler could feel Joey's smile against his shoulder. "Now," Chandler said, breaking the hug and clapping Joey on the arm, "How about a beer?"_

_Two hours later, the two men were completely wasted. They sat side by side on the couch, sixth beer in hand, laughing uproariously at something neither of them could now remember. Somewhere around their fourth beer, Joey had slipped his hand into Chandlers, leaning comfortably back against his chest. It didn't really strike Chandler as odd, being that close to Joey—at least, not until Joey started stroking the back of Chandler's hand with his thumb._

_It seemed like that was all it took for Chandler to sense a . . . spark. Something he had never felt with Joey. He shook his head, trying to clear away the goosebumps that raced up his arm every time Joey touched him. Chandler sat up. "Hey . . . uh, Joe—what—?"_

_Chandler never got the whole sentence out._

_Before he knew what was happening, Joey's lips were on his. For the first few seconds, Chandler lay there numbly, before his brain suddenly kicked into overdrive and he was kissing Joey back, making up for time he hadn't even known was lost, hands roaming through the other man's dark hair._

Joey is kissing you. Joey is _kissing_ you. Joey is kissing _you_. Joey is—

_And as abruptly as it had begun, the kiss ended, Joey breaking away and searching Chandler's wide, unfocused eyes. It seemed like hours, like years, that they lay there on the couch, simply staring at each other and wondering why the hell they hadn't done this sooner._

_Finally, Chandler spoke. Or rather, tried to. "I—ah—we—"_

_Joey grinned, breaking out into laughter. "We're fine," he announced quietly, rolling off Chandler and settling back onto the couch._

_Chandler smiled back, closing his eyes._

"_Yeah. We're fine."_

---

It suddenly occurs to Chandler that they had never really talked about that night, never exactly acknowledged anything. They had simply fallen into the past two weeks blissfully, not changing much about their day-to-day routine—aside from the kissing, of course.

Chandler laughs out loud at this thought, and Joey, pressed up against his chest, hears him and stirs, waking up.

He yawns, then smiles up at Chandler. "Hey. What time is it?" Stretching, he gets up from the couch. "I'm starving."

Chandler nods, feeling a rush of affection, as he always does when he looks at Joey. "Yeah, me too." And something else is on the edge of his lips, something he can't quite say.

"I—"

_Love you._

"—I'll get dinner."

He'll say it out loud, someday. But for now, he lets it go, because for the first time in a long time, things are absolutely perfect.


End file.
